Feel Again
by SleepingAreYouDreaming
Summary: Jack returns to the town where it all started but wasn't prepared to meet an old friend. And he finds out that this story is probably a lot better than this inadequate summary! Jack/OC
1. Long Time

I was back in this town. A town I swore to myself I wouldn't return to. Well, I couldn't stay away forever I guess; this was a special place for me. Even so, I wasn't feeling in the most chipper of moods and I just wanted to be alone for a while.

And that's what I've been doing, sitting up in this tree. Sitting and staring at the frost decorated trees. My eyes followed the old path, which had a sheet of freshly fallen snow. All of this winter beauty, thanks to me, of course.

Wow, I thought to myself, it has been a while since I've hung out here. Almost 11 years now? To me, that is merely a blink of an eye but for some reason it seems longer.

My daydream was cut off by the sound of snow crunching under foot. I peered around, searching for the source. Through the branches, I saw a girl, dawdling through the forest. She looked like she was lost in a trance, mindlessly walking while her mind was on something else. Something about her sparked my curiosity. I mean, most people don't use this path in the winter. It might be a shortcut but it can be kind of hard to walk through in the snow. This girl seems to have no trouble at all, however.

I used the wind to sweep me onto a lower branch so that I could have a better view of her. She was bundled up in usual winter gear, a hat, scarf, mittens, and snow boots. As I kept quiet, I could hear her barely audible humming. She was nearing the tree I was perched in but all of a sudden, she stopped. Again, just like this was a mechanical routine, she shrugged off the shoulder bag she had on and pulled out a little notebook and pencil. She then laid the bag down next to a tree and sat on it, propping her notebook on her lap. After looking around, she started sketching something.

It was now that I realized I had been holding my breath all this time. I couldn't stop watching this girl though; there was just something about her. Something familiar but I couldn't put my finger on it.

She gazed around again, presumably looking for another thing to sketch. Because of her age, I didn't bother moving to a better hiding spot. I watched as her gaze drifted amongst the trees, closer and closer. Eventually, she looked on over to the low branch I was laying on. I expected her eyes to keep moving but they stayed, focused on where I was. No…not on where I was…on me.

A little life returned to my body, she is looking at me! Right at me, no doubt about it. I felt a grin spread across my face, the curiosity was growing too much. I needed to know about this girl.

All of a sudden, color rose into her cheeks and she ducked her head down, scribbling something. Just as quickly, she got up, dusted off her bag and started scurrying down the path. I breezed down from the tree, landing softly on my feet in the snow. Slowly and steadily, I followed her, staff in hand.

Yeah, I know, creepy. But, it's not every day that a teenager can actually see me. As I followed her, I noticed her shoulders tense and she pulled her notebook closer to her side. She was nearing the opening when she whirled around, facing me.

"Are you following me?" She accused, holding out her pencil as if it could be used as a weapon.

I stood, speechless, she really could see me! Over the past 30 years, I have gotten more and more believers but I still got that same rush of joy when someone new could see me.

My thoughts kept me from talking, so she spoke again, "Well, stop it, okay? Creep!" She turned on her heel and began to walk (a weird half run/half walk thing, actually) down the path.

"Wait!" I called, finally waking up. To my surprise, she stopped. Again, not the response I was expecting, "You can see me?"

She slowly turned around, "Why wouldn't I be able to?" She narrowed her eyes, studying me. Now that I was closer to her, I could see her better. Her hat was pulled down over her ears but I could see two long, brown braids hanging over her shoulders. She wasn't very tall, probably about 4 inches shorter than me.

"How old are you?" I asked, rather bluntly. My guess was around 15 but something about how she spoke made me think she could be a lot older.

"Seriously," She popped her hip, "You really think I would tell a _complete_ _stranger_?" Now, usually, I would take that as a perfectly reasonable response but once again, there was something different. The way she said "complete stranger" seemed as if she was reassuring herself rather than stating a fact.

I chuckled, "Touché, but am I really a stranger?" I walked a bit closer, "Because there is something very familiar about you," This wasn't a lie; there was something uncanny about this girl. I was so close, it seemed so obvious, yet I couldn't figure it out.

The girl's eyes grew wide, "I…I don't know," Again, she studied me. I could tell she was doing the exact same thing I was. How does she know me, is what she is probably wondering.

"Jack Frost," She said confidently. My words caught in my throat in shock. Did she really just say my name right off the bat? Maybe she was a bit better at figuring out these things than I was.

"I remember you," She continued, "You used to play with me when I was…oh, like, 5 years old!" The girl sighed nostalgically, as if she was remembering fond times.

I shrugged, "Jack Frost, indeed, at your service. And that is quite possible, I used to spend a fair amount of time here," Now I was the one reminiscing. Fond memories, sure, but they were still painful to remember.

"Cool," She nodded before turning around and continuing out of the forest. How was this girl able to take everything so gracefully?

"What!?" I called after her, "You are just going to leave?" I whistled for the wind, which blew me over to her, stumbling.

I grabbed her wrist and she yanked her hand away, "Yikes, your hands are freezing!" I muttered an apology but my head was buzzing with the fact that I almost knew where I've seen her before.

"Look, my house is just over there," She pointed but her voice trailed off as she noticed me staring at her. Her eyes, I just noticed them. A soft, _familiar_ brown, shining with a _familiar_ curiosity…

I darted my eyes over to where she pointed and sucked in a tight breath. An all too _familiar_ house.

"Marilyn? Marilyn Bennett?" I whispered, hoping that my voice wasn't noticeably wavering.

"Right you are, Jack. I was worried you had forgotten about me!" She laughed; completely unaware of the emotional shock I was going through, "Though to be completely honest, I had forgotten about you until I saw you and my memory got jogged."

I ran my hand through my white hair, "I should've known something like this was going to happen," I muttered, trying desperately to keep my cool.

I was returning to where it all started, where he used to live. Of course there was the chance that I would meet a member of his family. Yet, I guess I somehow convinced myself that they would've moved away after he died.

"Jack?" Marilyn cocked her head.

"What? Oh, sorry. I just…your dad…" I tried to explain but watched as Marilyn's face darkened.

She sighed and looked at the ground, meaning that I shouldn't have said that.

"Oh, geez, I'm sorry! I shouldn't have said that, I shouldn't even be here..." I rambled on, trying to recover.

Marilyn put her hand up, "It's okay. Really, I'm over it. It's been five years; I can handle people talking to him. His death was honorable," She forced a smile but her eyes were sad. No one gets over that kind of thing, I wanted to say. I know.

"But, Jack?" She asked, "All those stories my dad used to tell me…were they true?" This question seemed like one that Marilyn had had for a long time. Nights spent lying awake often leads to thinking about unanswered questions you never got to ask.

I assumed she was talking about when Jamie used to tell her about how we saved the children of the world, all those years ago, "Completely and absolutely."

The moment I said that, I saw a closure wash over her. I could tell that half of her was still skeptical but the child in her heart accepted it as if all I had said was there was snow on the ground.

"Marilyn? MARILYN?" A woman's voice called in the distance.

"Oh, that's my mom," Marilyn groaned, "COMING, MOOOOOOMMMM!" She bellowed, emitting more sound than I thought possible for a girl her size.

Marilyn was about to say goodbye but she first looked sternly at me, "Don't leave town, I have more questions for you. Can we meet later tonight?"

Darn it. After this, I was hoping to skip town entirely. But, how was I supposed to refuse answering questions from Jamie's daughter, especially if they are about Jamie?

I agreed and Marilyn offered numerous places around town where we could meet, all of which would be difficult for her to sneak out too.

"Look, Marilyn, I know this might sound creepy but can't I just meet you in your bedroom? I'm guessing you are in Jamie's old room and I know how to sneak in," I proposed nervously, but hey, it was the best place. She wouldn't have to worry about her mom waking up because Jamie and I figured out the perfect volume to talk during the night without being loud enough for sound to travel to the master bedroom.

Marilyn contemplated this suggestion for a moment, "Alright, I guess. We better not get caught though, if my mom finds me with a boy in my room, I'm dead!" I laughed and promised that she wouldn't find out.

After she left, I felt a new surge of excitement. Just the thought of sneaking into that room again, in that house, made me feel at home. I had done it a thousand times, and now I will do it again. But this time, it will be a whole new adventure.

**Hope you like it! More to come later :)**


	2. Numb

I stood on the snow covered lawn, staring up at Jamie's bedroom window. Oh, well, I guess it's Marilyn's bedroom now. The light was on, meaning that she was probably waiting for me now. But for some reason, I couldn't get myself to fly up and sneak in. My mind kept expecting to see Jamie's face appear in the window but I keep remembering that he won't. He's gone, Jack. Gone, and don't you go trying to use Marilyn as a substitute for him.

Shaking my head, I let out a big sigh and whistled for the window. With a graceful breeze, I was crouched around the window, fidgeting with the lock. Darn, did they get new windows or something, I thought as I struggled.

Marilyn was lying on her bed, reading a book, but noticed me having difficulty. She laughed a little; staring at me wide eyed, and came over to open the window.

"Not as easy as it used to be," I muttered awkwardly after she let me in. Marilyn didn't say anything back, just slowly returned to her bed and sat down, staring at me. I could tell she was stilling trying to figure me out, unsure of what to believe.

"You want to talk?" I offered as encouragement, sitting in a lounge chair that she had stationed in the corner, right next to her bookshelf. This room sure has changed, I thought. From the boyish theme from Jamie's time, with random drawings taped to the walls and articles about Big Foot everywhere, to when it was a nursery for little baby Marilyn. Now it was very artsy and seemed like the perfect hide out for a typical introvert. A small wooden desk sat across from her bed, covered with art supplies and crumpled drawings. She had what looks like a custom paint job on the walls, which I assumed she did herself. Her closest was open and looked incredibly messy, filled to the brim with colorful and patterned clothes.

"Yeah," Marilyn said at last, "I guess. I just don't know where to start," Sighing; she looked at me as if she was waiting for me to start.

I shrugged, "Well, there is a lot to say…if you want to talk about your dad…" I began cautiously, not sure if she really wanted me to continue.

No matter how many good memories I share with her, it won't make this story any happier. It's tragic, for the world to have someone like Jamie taken from it. Some days, I blame myself. Just that stupid thing I said, "You are a guardian too," that's all it took. Jamie promised me he would be the best guardian ever, and at the time I just laughed. But then he applied for a military academy and got accepted, eventually becoming a fully trained Marine. With a war going on, of course he was stationed out on the front lines. It was his dream to become a guardian and that is definitely what he did. Unfortunately, he lost his life to it.

What could I say to her that would give her any closure? Of course, it has been 5 years but it must have still hurt, "I can tell you about the time he first saw me…" I said before launching off into the story. It was surprising that she hadn't heard it before from Jamie but maybe she just wanted to hear it again.

Marilyn just sat there, listening contently, smiling slightly every time I mentioned Jamie's name. When I was finished, it was clear that I successfully broke the ice (no pun intended). Marilyn started to ask me all kind of questions about everything she could think of.

"My dad really was your first believer?"

"Where's Pitch now?"

"How did you become a Guardian?"

"Can you fly?"

And then finally, a harsher question:

"Why did you stop visiting?"

At this, I paused and drew in a sharp breath, "Well," I breathed out, "It was hard to convince myself to come back."

"But don't you think I could have used someone? I had so many questions that nobody could answer."

"I know you were hurting but I'm not invincible. I spend a lot of time helping others and I just needed to help myself for a little while. Jamie was my first friend."

"He was my father, Jack!" She cried with a sudden burst of anger, "I was ten!

I stood up quickly, trying to think of something to say. How could I tell her that I was sorry? I guess, I just reassured myself that her mom would be all she needed to get through. I didn't even think about staying.

"I just don't understand why he always needed to protect everyone. What about us? Here? We need him too!" She sobbed, unleashing emotions that haven't been released in quite some time.

I sat down slowly next to her, unsure of what to say. To my surprise, however, Marilyn leaned into me, unresponsive to my cold body. I awkwardly lifted my arm and put it around her, letting her cry on me for a while.

After a bit, I attempted to explain more about her father but she cut me off, "I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"But, Marilyn..."

"No, Jack. Don't you dare think that just because you saw my cry this time that I'm going to make a habit of it. Crying doesn't make anything better and contrary to what I though, neither does talking about it," Tears were still fresh in her eyes, I could tell she was lying to herself but I didn't argue.

I just silently agreed and bid her a good night. Everything that just happened whirled through my head. It started off so nice and comforting but it ended so badly.

Once I returned to my sanctuary in the woods, I spent the rest of the night contemplating whether I should leave town. That would probably be the best; I've caused too much trouble already.

**I already have a lot of this story written, so updates will becoming regularly. Reviews are welcome!**


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